


Sympathy for the Devil

by ladyreapermc



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demon Summoning, F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, Porn With Plot, demon!john wick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22160545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyreapermc/pseuds/ladyreapermc
Summary: Your best friend is getting married and you’re very excited until you find out that your ex is coming to the wedding. After a night of too much drinking and without a date for the big day, you summon a demon to make a deal.
Relationships: John Wick & You, John Wick/You
Comments: 21
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this one was loosely inspired by this prompt (https://www.instagram.com/p/B10-KlyiiKD/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) and it was supposed to be an one-shot but it started to grow. I’m in love with the idea of demon!John and how that would change the entire John Wick universe. Enjoy this first chapter. Feedback and suggestions are always welcomed!

It was routine on Monday for your precinct to have squad meetings every morning. It was mostly a moment to update the team on open cases and for your captain to distribute new assignments. It usually took a good part of the morning, so you didn’t have a chance to check your phone, but when you finally did, there were five missing calls from your best friend Claire, along with several messages asking you to call her immediately.

The sight of it set your senses on high alert as you looked for a quiet place to call her back. Claire was getting married in a week. If she was so desperate to talk to you there could only mean some kind of emergency.

“You haven’t RSVP for my wedding yet, right?” it was the first words out of Claire’s mouth as soon as the call connected.

“Are you serious? That’s why you were calling? I’m your maid of honor. Of course, I’m coming!” You rolled your eyes even if she couldn’t see you. “I’ll do it right now if it’s that important.”

“No! wait!” Claire shouted and you pulled your phone away from your ear at the shrill tone of her voice. “You have to bring a date. Ryan’s coming.”

“What?” Your heart sped up and your breath caught in your throat. “Ryan, like my ex, Ryan? What the hell Claire!?”

“It wasn’t me!” She hurried to say. “Apparently Dave ran into him and invited him since we have all these empty seats we already paid for. I’m so sorry.”

You dropped on the nearest chair, rubbing your temples. This could not be happening. You were not ready to face Ryan. You didn’t think you would ever be . Not after everything that happened between the two of you.

“How the hell am I gonna find a date in less than a week?” you asked with a sigh.

Funny how you always thought you were so empowered but the thought of meeting your ex by yourself on a wedding made dread and panic rise in your chest. You could almost picture the grimace in Claire’s face just through her silence. You two have been friends since kindergarten, you knew her like the back of your hand.

“What about that guy you’ve been seeing?” she asked, and it was your turn to wince. Teddy was pretty fun, but more of a fuck buddy than a man you’d want to bring to your best friend’s wedding.

“I’ll figure something out,” you said with another sigh before saying your goodbyes and pocketing your phone just as your partner called you over. You two had a witness to interview.

Work helped to get your mind off the situation, but as soon as you walked in your apartment, dropping your keys, badge and gun on the sidetable, the entire debacle returned to your mind and you flopped on the couch, browsing your contacts because facing Ryan alone was one of your worst nightmares.

Once up a time, Ryan had been the love of your life, the center of your universe. He was a couple of years older, had a punk rock band, tattoos and felt so dangerous. It had been such a thrill. Your parents hated him and hated who you became when you were with him. Then one night you dropped by his place and he had just up and left without explanation, without a goodbye.

You remembered running all the way back home, the cold air of the night drying your tears and your heart felt like it would never be whole again. Maybe it never mended right, because even though you had several relationships in the last ten years, they never seemed to last or to feel quite right.

It was something you avoided thinking about it and were mostly successful since you’ve been putting your career as your biggest priority. You shouldn’t let the ghost of a ruined relationship you had when you were a teenager affect you or ruin your fun at your best friend’s wedding.

That was easier said than done though, because as soon as you set foot on your hometown you were hit by this overwhelming sense of nostalgia that settled on your chest and seemed unwilling to be shaken off. Everywhere you looked your mind was flooded with memories and you never felt closer to your seventeen old self.

The feeling was especially strong when you met Claire and your other best friend Lydia at the same store the three of you bought your prom dresses so you could do the final fitting for your dress. Since you and Lydia had pretty much the same body type, she had been standing in for you and this was the first time you would actually try it on.

“You look amazing!” Claire gushed as she met your eyes through the mirror. You grinned at your best friend because she was right. It was a beautiful dress and fit you perfectly.

You paid for it and the three of you left the store heading to the same diner you used to hang out after school back in the day. You hoped they still served that heavenly chocolate milkshake because you were starving.

By some miracle, your usual booth at the diner, the one right by the glass window, was free and you, Claire and Lydia took your seats, ordering a round of milkshakes and fries as you caught up with each other. Sure, you three talked every other week, but nothing beat being with them in person. It was light and fun and familiar, and you were having so much fun you forgot any worries you had until you saw him.

Ryan stood on the other side of the street and he looked like he was waiting for someone as he talked on the phone. He had changed so much in the past ten years. Gone were the purple mohawk, piercings and ripped shirts. Ryan had gone back to his natural blonde hair; his blue eyes were free of makeup and there was no piercing visible. He looked even more handsome than you remembered and your stomach felt queasy and knotted at the sight of him. Especially when a brunette woman, that belonged on the pages of a fashion magazine, stepped out of the shop and met him. Ryan kissed her cheek and they walked away; arms linked together.

“You didn’t tell me he was bringing a date,” you croaked, glancing back at Claire.

“I didn’t know,” she said with a sympathetic expression. “Are you ok? What do you need?”

“Alcohol,” you declared, dropping a few bills on the table as you stood up. “Lots and lots of alcohol.”

It was a good thing that Lydia and Claire knew about the entire dirty affair between you and Ryan because they didn’t even blink at your request. Instead, they guided you out of the diner and two streets over to the bar you all used to go. It was old and kind of seedy, but the drinks were cheap, there was a karaoke machine and the bartender still remembered your orders, so he kept them coming all night.

You left the bar with your friends around two in the morning, finding your way home and stumbling up to your childhood room without waking your parents by some kind of miracle. Once again you were swayed by the nostalgia that sent you into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Sneaking home after too much booze? Could there be something more teenage to do? 

And maybe it was this nostalgia that gave you the brilliant idea of digging out the stupid journal from beneath the loosen floorboard under your bed. It was an old leather-bound book you found at an antique store. The yellowing pages and intricate design on the cover had caught your eye and you ended up buying it because back then you were obsessed with becoming a witch.

Flipping through the familiar pages, you smiled at the “spells” which were mostly badly written rhymes or some verses you found online. A spell to get good grades; another to make your father less annoying; one to make people fall in love with you; there was even one to summon a demon… You paused at those words, frowning at the page. You didn’t remember this one but it certainly your handwriting.

You got up in an impulse and gathered the ingredients the spell required: silver, ash, and bone. You took an old jewelry box that you found in your room, filled with a handful of your grandfather’s ashes, the black knight made of carved bone from your father’s chess set and the silver necklace your mom had given you for your sweet sixteen.

Once you had everything, you grabbed your journal of spells and the box and headed for the crossroads a couple of blocks from your parents’ house. The entire thing was crazy and the sane part of you kept telling you to go back home and sleep off your intoxication. Another part of you, which was louder, edged you forward.

You put the box on the middle of the crossroad and checked the spell again. There was one last ingredient that you hadn’t added: blood. You took out your hairpin, letting your long hair tumble free over your shoulders as you used the sharp edge to prickle our finger, flinching at the quick stab of pain. Crimson blood blossomed on your skin and you let it fall into the open box before chanting the words on the journal three times as demanded.

Holding your breath you waited a few moments, but nothing happened except a slow drizzle starting to fall. The cold droplets made you laugh and sobered you up a little. What were you doing? This was ridiculous. Rolling your eyes at yourself and sucking your wounded finger, you picked up the jewelry box from the ground and turned on your heels to head home. You managed only a couple of steps when the wind picked up speed, making your hair wisp widely over your face, carrying around a deep, throaty voice:

“Your Latin needs work.”

—

John was staring out of the window of his hotel room, sipping his bourbon when he felt the call. It had been a very long time since he had received a summoning. In these modern times, witches and warlocks were a rare breed and few of those who dabbled with magic had any actual power to execute a spell like that. Apparently, someone in this tiny little town was powerful enough to do so and it was out of pure curiosity that John set his glass aside and followed the call. He found himself on a dirt crossroads, under a soft spring drizzle just as a young woman started to walk away from him.

He commented on her Latin to catch her attention, taking pleasure in the way she jumped startled before turning around the look at him, her eyes widening in surprise. She didn’t look particularly powerful or special, but there was something strangely enticing about her that sparked John’s curiosity.

“How…? Where…? Who…?” she stuttered too confused to really finish a sentence and John snorted.

“You summoned me here,” he replied with an arched eyebrow. “As for who, you may call me John.”

“A demon named John?” she snorted a laugh and John thought there was an edge of hysteria in her tone that he could only attribute to shock.

“Who were you expecting? Beelzebub?” he asked dryly. “So, what do you need?”

“What do I need?” she repeated a little dumbly and John shook his head with an exasperated sigh. This was starting to get annoying.

“Yes. Why did you summon me here?” he clarified.

“I… Well… I need a date.” she confessed, her cheeks turning a charming shade of red. “For a wedding.”

She quickly explained her situation and all John could do was stare in disbelief. This girl really summoned the powers of hell because she didn’t want to face her ex alone? It was preposterous.

“I didn’t think it would actually work!” she exclaimed, obviously noticing his disapproving expression. “How was I supposed to know I wrote down an actual summoning spell on my book of shadows when I was sixteen!?”

John shook his head again, ready to go back to his hotel. This was pointless and he had a business deal to conclude in a few hours. Before he could do anything, he felt the wind changing directions and making him freeze as it brought along her scent. It was so sweet and desirable, almost intoxicatingly so and it made John want to bury his nose in her neck. It was the smell of virtue. This woman had one of the purest souls he ever encountered.

“I can give you what you want,” John offered in a low voice, turning up all of his charms and being rewarded by the way she shuddered. “For a price.”

“I’m not selling my soul,” she replied as she took a step back.

John fought to contain his grin at her refusal. It meant he would have to work this the old way. Corrupt her little by little. It had been a long time since anyone put up a challenge. The prospect excited him.

“I don’t always deal in souls,” he said moving closer to her. “Sometimes all I require is a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” she asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion and John felt a strange sense of pride. She might have been naïve enough to summon him, but she wasn’t stupid.

“You’re learning,” he commented, gently tracing up her arm just to see her breath hitching, her scent changing slightly, acquiring a certain spiciness due to her arousal. “I don’t know yet. Someday I might need something, and you’ll have to give it to me.”

John waited as she thought through his offer. He could tell part of her wasn’t sure if this was really happening or if she was hallucinating due to too much alcohol.

“I assure you, darling,” he said, taking her hand in his and bringing to his lips for a soft kiss over her knuckles. “I am quite real.”

“Will anyone get hurt? If I do this favor?” she asked her voice shaky, her cheeks flushed.

“No one needs to get hurt,” he assured, holding her gaze.

“Ok,” she finally said with a gulp. “If you promise no one will get hurt with this favor of yours, I accept. Where do I sign?”

“That’s not how demons seal contracts, darling…” John smirked at her, hand moving to her cheek, cradling her jaw and tilting her face up with a gentle nudge of his thumb on her chin. He could tell the exact moment she realized what was about to happen because her eyes darkened and her lips parted almost in an invitation.

John could hear her heart racing and the jumble of thoughts running through her head as he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers. He was gentle because he didn’t want to scare her. It paid off because she sighed against his mouth, her hand coming to his chest and fisting his shirt as she pressed her mouth a little more firmly against his and John could feel her urge to have him.

His tongue teased the seam of her lips and she immediately parted them for him, letting John explore and chase the faint taste of liquor and the sweetness that seemed uniquely hers. It was almost addictive, especially the way she responded to him, her own tongue sliding against his, her body pressing closer. John could feel her arousal growing and igniting his own. It had been a long time since he felt this stirring with just a kiss.

He wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady and her hands timidly moved up to his neck, her fingers combing through his hair softly, almost like she was petting him, and this time John was the one to sigh against her mouth. He could stay like this for a long time. As long as she wanted.

It was that treacherous thought that broke the spell and John pulled away from her, putting some physical distance between himself and the woman.

John lingered for a moment watching the way she sighed, eyes still closed, her fingers gently touching her lips, still caught up in the aftereffects of him charm. He felt a strange urge to return to her, catch her mouth again. Before he could succumb to those impulses, he went back to his hotel, putting even more some distance between himself and this alluring human.

He was the one doing the tempting, not the other way around. John needed to remember that.


	2. Chapter 02

It took you a moment to finally open your eyes after the kiss. You didn’t think anything could feel that good and that might have been the best kiss you had in a long time. Maybe in your entire life. You were almost disappointed that John had broken away because it made you feel a strange sort of loss.

When your mind finally stopped racing enough for you to pay attention to your surroundings again, you noticed John was nowhere to be found and there was no trace of him. No sign he had even been there in the first place. Maybe your inebriated and horny brain conjured him up after all. Shaking your head, you returned home, setting the jewelry box on your bedside table and crawling under the covers. As you closed your eyes, you were convinced the entire thing had been a weird dream.

The next morning your head was pounding, your stomach churned with every movement and your mouth tasted like something had died inside. You stumbled blindingly into your bathroom, fighting off nausea. The shower made you feel a little more human and awake. The fresh pot of coffee, the stack of pancakes and a bottle of aspirin waiting for you when you got to the kitchen finished off the job.

“Didn’t hear you come in last night,” your mother commented while you shoveled pancake goodness into your mouth.

“Went drinking with the girls,” you replied around a mouth full and your mother grimaced in disgust, making you roll your eyes. It wasn’t like you were doing that in public. It was just you and her, but she always made a big deal about your manners. It wasn’t as bad as in your pageant girl days, but it was still annoying.

Back then your mother would control every aspect of your life and behavior, because being a pageant queen herself, she always dreamt of passing on her legacy to her daughter. You lost count of how many times she told you how she and her dad struggled to conceive for years and had pretty much given up hope when she found she was pregnant of you, their little miracle, and her dream had come true at last.

You kind of enjoyed at first, the whole pageant life. All the tiaras and pretty dresses were fun, but as you grew older, your interest shifted and you always felt like she never had forgiven you completely for not going forward with it, choosing college and police academy instead of state and national pageants.

“I ironed your dress for tonight and hung it in the laundry room,” she said conversationally bringing you back to the present and you winced, appetite gone.

“Thanks, mom,” you said pushing the plate away from you.

You had blissfully forgotten the entire wedding/rehearsal dinner and the fact that you’d be running into Ryan on both but here was your mom bringing it all back. It wasn’t really her fault. She didn’t know he was in town, much less the details of your breakup. All you told your parents was that you two were done. They didn’t ask for details, too relieved that it was finally over.

After washing your plate and refilling your mug, you went back to your childhood room, planning on doing some work before it was time for dinner, but stopped at the sight of the jewelry box and book of shadows. Part of you wanted to believe you didn’t go to the middle of the street like a lunatic to play summoning demons, but the cut on your finger was still there, so was the box. That did happen. Could John had been real? He couldn’t be, right? What was more plausible? That you summoned a demon from the pits of hell or that your hallucinated a gorgeous man due to too much alcohol?

You cleaned the box and put your necklace back on with snort before powering your laptop so you could write up some reports, being confronted with the low battery light. You dug through your bag, searching for your charger but apparently, you had left at home. This was so not your day.

“I’m heading into town,” you called out from the front door as you put on your shoes. “Anybody want anything?”

“Could stop by at Callum’s, see if the books I ordered arrived?” your father asked and you called a quick agreement before you stepped out into the sunny spring day.

You considered taking your car but decided that a walk would do you some good so you put your earbuds, blasting one of your playlists and after twenty minutes you were at the heart of town, waving at familiar faces as you made a beeline to the electronic store to buy yourself a new charger, before heading to the antique books dealer a couple of blocks down the road.

Callum’s was a little store that had been standing for as long as you could remember and it was one of your favorite places in your home town. As you stepped inside a small chime rang out, announcing your arrival. To your surprise, it wasn’t Callum that stepped out to meet you, but a young man who smiled brightly at you.

“Welcome to Callum’s books. How can I help you?”

“My father ordered some books,” you said, offering your last name and watching as the man – Clark according to his nametag – typed on a computer. Apparently, Callum was beginning to modernize his business.

“They’re in the back. I’ll pack them up for you,” Clark replied with another smile, before disappearing behind a door.

You wandered aimlessly, browsing the book spines, picking up random titles that caught your attention to flip through it. There was something magical about reading through words that someone else had read one day or even made notes. It was a unique story inside a story.

As you read through a dedicatory in one of the books you picked up, you felt the familiar prickling on the back of your neck, the strange, uncomfortable feeling of being watched that always made the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on its ends. You exhaled slowly, left hand falling to your waist but coming up empty. You didn’t have your holster with you because you weren’t on duty. This wasn’t New York, this was your hometown, a city where the worst kind of crime that had ever happened in the last ten years was someone vandalizing the high school principal’s car.

Setting the book back, you turned around, breath catching in your throat when you saw John there, leaning against one of the bookcases and watching you with his intense dark eyes.

“Hello, darling.”

Your mouth moved wordlessly for a couple of seconds as you tried to make your brain work through your shock. He was real? You didn’t hallucinate or dream him?

“No, you didn’t,” he said, lips drawing into a smirk as he took a step towards you. “We did indeed meet at the crossroads and make a deal.”

“Right,” you croaked, the memory of kissing him enough to make your knees weak.

Fortunately, you heard Clark calling your name and had an excuse to look away from John and focus on the friendly seller instead. As you reached for the pile of carefully wrapped books, John stepped in, picking them up for you.

“Why don’t I give you a hand, darling?” he said, not giving you a chance to answer, his gaze shifting to Clark. “Tell Callum I’ll meet him tomorrow to see the other book.”

Before you could voice a protest, John had already moved outside, his long legs giving him an unfair advantage and you had no other choice but follow. He made his way to a gorgeous Mustang holding your books under his arm, as he opened the passenger door for you.

You stood there still too stunned to know what to do. Were you really about to get into the car of a strange man, possibly a demon? Before your mind could finish processing that thought, your legs had already moved you forward and you got in. John flashed you a smile as he handed your books before closing the door and getting in as well.

“You look like you could use a drink,” he teased, turning on the engine and you snorted. It was ten in the morning and you were still nursing a hangover but he was absolutely right.

“I’ll settle for some coffee,” you said instead and John nodded, driving the short distance to the same diner you had been at with your friends yesterday. The two of you even sat at the same booth nursing the burned coffee as you just stared at each other, the air heavy with tension.

“You have questions,” John said, finally breaking the silence. “Ask them.”

“You’re really a demon?” you blurted out and he chuckled, giving you a quick nod. “Prove it.”

“You want me to grown horns and a tail or something?” he asked with a smirk and you snorted. That would be quite funny and ridiculous. “It would.”

“And you can read my mind.” It was an assertion, but John still nodded. You wondered how that would feel, to listen to everyone’s thoughts.

“A little bit like listening to a radio that’s picking up interference,” he replied, startling you and he even looked surprised himself like he wasn’t expecting to tell you. “I can hear yours much clearer. Other people, they’re usually just whispers, and I need to focus a little more.”

“So, I guess I have to be careful about what I think around you, huh?” you said with a smile, which John returned.

“Probably.”

And just because you could, you conjured up a mental picture of him with bright red horns sticking out of his dark hair. John nearly spat out of coffee, laughing and you chuckled too, relaxing.

The silence stretched between the two of you again, but strangely it wasn’t uncomfortable. John set your nerves on edge, but not in a bad way. It was more like eager expectation, the same you used to feel every Christmas morning before coming down the stairs to find your presents. He was a fascinating surprise you were anxious to unravel.

“What exactly happens with this deal?” you asked, drumming your fingers on the table just to have something to do.

“You get what you want and I get what I want. Simple as that.”

“And what you want?” you met his gaze that seemed to electrify your body and steal your breath with its intensity.

“What you think I want, darling?” he asked, tracing the rim of his cup as he watched you and you swallowed hard, looking away.

“My soul?” You guessed and for the third time, John just nodded. It was refreshing to meet someone this honest. “But I didn’t give it in the deal.”

“True. But there are other ways to get it. Just takes longer.”

“Is there a way to break the deal?” you asked.

“Do you want to?”

You thought about it and you should want it. You were sitting across a literal demon who just told you point-blank that he wanted your soul. You should want to stay as far away as possible; end this before it even began but something was stopping you. A sort of morbid curiosity, the same one that pushed you to the crossroads last night. That part of you wanted to see how far John would go to have your soul and how far could you push back, challenge him.

“No,” you said finally and John smiled, it was almost wolfishly, predatorial and made you shudder.

“Then what time should I pick you up tonight?”

—

Eight on the dot John pulled up in front of her house, dressed in one of his best dark suits, his hair pushed back and away from his face. He surveyed the two stores, greek revival style construction, the picket white fence and perfectly manicured lawn. The embodiment of the American dream.

With a smile, John walked up the stone pathway to the front door and before he could even reach for the doorbell, it was pulled open and there she stood in a navy-blue dress falling just above her knees and a deep neckline that commanded his eyes to take a peek at her generous cleavage.

The dark color of the dress complimented her silky skin, just like the dark shade of red of her lipstick that kept pulling his eyes to her full lips; the way her hair was pulled up, exposing her neck almost dared him to kiss it. She looked irresistible and John couldn’t help but want to wreck her, taint the pristine purity he could feel on her.

“You look beautiful, darling,” he said and she actually blushed, lowering her gaze, a shy smile across her lips.

“Thank you.”

She took the hand John offered her, letting him lead her to his car. He could feel her hesitation, doubt filling her mind again, along with concern for her friends at the thought of bringing a demon to the rehearsal dinner.

“You have nothing to worry about,” John reassured. “I’m bound to you until our deal is completed. I will not harm you or anyone you care about. I have no reason to do so. Not unless they threaten me.” John could tell she was inclined to believe him, but there was still a hint of uncertainty. “Rest assured that I will never lie or deceive you. Not when the truth can get me everything I need.”

She met his eyes, holding his gaze for a moment, searching for the truth in them. John knew she was very apt at spotting lies if due to her training or natural talent, he had yet to discover, but John was very happy that he was being completely honest with her. Apparently satisfied with what she saw in his gaze, she nodded and got into the car.

It was a short drive to the Italian restaurant the rehearsal dinner was being held and when John handed his keys to the valet, he also included a healthy tip. It was much easier to assure the safety of his car by being generous than being threatening.

He offered his arm, noticing how small her hand looked tucked by his elbow as he guided the way to the entrance. As they stepped closer to the door, John was flooded with her anxiety, the fear of running into her ex and his new girlfriend and uncertainty about her looks. It was overwhelming and unsettling and John was getting nauseous himself, so he entwined their fingers together and squeezed lightly. She looked over at him almost surprised as John offered his reassurance.

“Everything will be fine,” he said against her ear, making sure his lips grazed her skin just to see her shiver and gasp. Once again he was overtaken by her scent, making him unsteady with want. He pulled away, noticing the way her eyes were a little glazed too. It was good to know that he wasn’t the only one affected.

They quickly located their table, sitting side by side and John ordered her some sparkling wine to settle her nerves and bourbon for himself.

As the night progressed and conversation flowed, John could tell she had relaxed considerably as she talked and laughed with her friends. He piped in every now and then, but his focus was mainly on her, making sure she was enjoying herself, that her glass was always full, but alternating with water so the wouldn’t get sick.

He kept an arm around her shoulders, fingers either playing with the loose strands of hair on her nape or with the delicate chain of her necklace as he sipped his own drink. John didn’t quite understand his need to have a constant point of physical contact with her but didn’t question it and she didn’t seem to mind. As a matter of fact, whenever he pulled his hand away for any reason, she searched for it, leaning against his touch like a cat starved for affection.

When she stood up to make her toast, John tried to ignore the loss, focusing instead on scanning the rest of the guests. He had noticed a blonde man staring at her all night and wondered if that was the ex-boyfriend. Regardless, John made sure she remained oblivious to him and he didn’t dare to come closer.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her hugging the bride after her speech, the two of them exchange quiet words. A rush of pleasure shot through his body as she lied about him to her best friend. It was small, but it was a sin and her guilt tasted like rich coffee in his tongue, bitter but delicious. He grinned into his bourbon, glancing to where he last saw her, but finding the spot empty.

As John looked around for her a sudden ache in his chest chased away any enjoyment that came from tainting her soul, confusing him because he never felt bad about corrupting anyone before. Then again, he never really met anyone like her before.

He took a moment to tune into her thoughts, listening to how she chided herself for lying to her friend and for being smitten by John. He almost smiled because she was a very intelligent woman. She could tell John was manipulating her, using his ability to be privy to her thoughts and feelings to give her everything she wanted, but she still couldn’t fight her attraction any more than he could fight his.

There was a moment of silence and then John was overcome by panic. It squeezed his gut and made him stood up in an instant, ignoring the strange looks he was receiving. She was terrified and the need to find her grew impossible to ignore or fight against. John let their bound guide him, finding her cornered by the same blonde man John had noticed earlied, just outside the restroom. Apparently, he was indeed the ex.

She looked like a deer caught in headlights and it brought forth in John a savage urge to ripping him to shreds. He could actually feel the thrum of power barely contained under his skin and knew that if he looked into a mirror right now he would find his eyes were pitch black.

John pushed down at his impulses, a little shocked at his lack of control and overwhelming protectiveness towards her. He never cared about the ones he made deals before. They were just meat sacks carrying around the prize he wanted. Not her though. She was different to him and he didn’t know why.

“There’s something you need to know about our breakup.” John heard him said just as he moved closer to them, making the other man shut up. 

“There you are, darling,” John said catching her gaze and her relief was obvious.

He moved towards her with sure steps, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close to his body, giving into the possessiveness he seemed to be feeling for her. He was rewarded by the feel of her tense muscles relaxing in his embrace as she hugged him back, her thumb hooking on one of the belt loop of his trousers.

Once he felt she was safe and protected, John shifted his attention to the ex-boyfriend. Examining the other man and enjoying way too much the terrified look in his face as he confronted the darkness of John’s eyes.

“Hello. I don’t think we’ve met,” he said offering Ryan a hand. “John.”

“Ryan,” the blonde said, his voice cracking slightly, and John smiled. Spineless asshole, not worthy of his time. He shifted his gaze to her, dismissing Ryan.

“Are you ready to go? It’s getting quite late.” She nodded quickly, letting John guide her away from Ryan, her relief growing at each step they took.

“Thank you. How did you know?”

“We’re bounded, my darling. I will always know when you need me,” he said caressing her arm soothingly and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. The action surprised both of them. John didn’t mean to be this gentle and he realized she wasn’t the only one getting too involved.

He waited while she said her goodbyes to the bride and groom, another lie slipping easily through her lips. The rush of sin wasn’t as big, neither was her guilt. Once she was ready, John led her outside where his car was already waiting. This time, she didn’t hesitate on getting inside. As a matter of fact, as John took the driver’s seat, all he could feel coming for her was comfort and relief. 


	3. Chapter 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead (outdoor sex; dirty talk; orgasm denial; a little choking and D/S vibes) Yes, I really went all out for this!

Who knew one day you would feel this safe around a demon? But when Ryan confronted you at the rehearsal dinner and panic overtook you, John had been your salvation board. His presence was not only calming but it reassured you that everything would be alright. His touch grounded you and chased away the panic you felt. Not many people could do that for you.

Now, as he silently drove you home, that comfort lingered and you turned in your seat to study his profile. The sharp lines of his face, the neatly trimmed beard and the way the tips of his raven hair curled slightly at his nape. John was undoubtedly one of the most handsome men you had ever laid eyes on.

This desire you felt for him went beyond just physical attraction though. It was something stronger that you couldn’t quite name or understand but it made itself known every time you looked at John, kindling a desperate need to touch him, to feel him, to taste him.

As the alcohol buzzing through your system lowered your inhibitions and the heady smell of John’s cologne mixed with his unique scent surrounded you, that desire grew to a level impossible to ignore and made you not want the night to end, pushing you into speaking:

“Take a left here,” you instructed, leaning against the headrest and watching him with hooded eyes. John hesitated briefly before flickering the blinkers as he took the turn.

“What are you planning, darling?” he asked without looking at you and you smiled. You were really starting to like the way he called you that.

“You’ll see,” you replied simply, resting a little more comfortably against the leather seat. It was a bit of a drive to where you were planning. “Take the next right.”

You guided John through the familiar roads until you reached the outskirts of town and up the hill. John stopped at a secluded clearing in the woods overlooking the skyline and you grinned at the view. It had been years since the last time you’ve been here, in the lovers’ lane. It had been with Ryan, but you pushed that thought aside. You didn’t want to think about him right now. Not when you had John all to yourself.

It was late enough that the place was deserted, giving you and John all the privacy you wanted. You stepped out of the car, the cool wind of the night making your dress billow over your legs and your hair fall over your eyes. You giggled pushing the skirt down.

You felt more than saw John moving towards you, pushing your hair away from your face, his large and warm palms cradling your jaw, thumb brushing your cheeks as he stared into you. It almost felt like he was looking straight into your soul. And maybe that was exactly what he was doing with those dark eyes.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his deep voice igniting something inside you. The smell of whiskey in his breath making you even drunker than before.

“Yes.” You nodded, stepping back until you felt the warm metal of the bumper hit the back of your knees. “I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right now.”

There was something strangely arousing in doing this out in the open like this, where someone could catch you. A charge of indecent exposure wouldn’t exactly ruin your career but it certainly wouldn’t look good on your record. You also had a feeling that if John was trying to corrupt your soul, giving into lust and having sex with him was certainly making his job easier. Right now, you could care less. You just wanted John.

His grin was almost wolfish and set your heart racing, heat spreading through your body. John caught your mouth for a deep, searing kiss while his hands traveled down your shoulders and arms until they settled on your hips. He hoisted you up until you were sitting on the hood of his Mustang and he was standing between your spread knees.

Bunching your skirt up, John caressed up your thighs, his calloused hands a sharp contract against your soft skin. He nipped at your neck, his beard scratching and tickling you, making you giggle and tilt your head to give him more room while you struggled against his belt, your hands shaky with your need for him.

Finally, you managed to get his pants open and push it down his legs. You ran a hand over his covered erection, making him grunt softly against your neck. You had expected him to be big, but he felt huge against your palm and you fought the urge of pressing your thighs together at the way need coiled in your core. That tension kept building as his mouth traveled down, dipping into the cleavage of your dress, his tongue hot against your skin.

John’s thick fingers found their way between your legs, teasing you through the lace of your underwear, making you throw your head back and moan in want. He had barely done anything, but every touch of his in your body seemed to drive you closer to the edge.

“You already soaked,” he whispered nipping at your chest, his voice throaty and husky. All you could do was nod, your mind too dizzy to form words. “Are you that desperate for my cock, darling?”

“Yes,” you gasped, squeezing him slightly through his boxers and he groaned, thrusting against your hand as he shoved your panties aside and pushed one finger inside you. You moaned, rocking your hips.

“So tight.” You could feel John smirking against your neck. “I’m gonna ruin you, my darling. Make you ache for days. Is that what you want?”

“Yes!” this time you exclaimed as you tried to get him to move his hand, but John held you still with an iron grip on your hips. “Please, John.”

“Such a needy little slut.” 

You never thought you’d get this turn on by being called a slut, but the way John said it made you whine and try to pull him even closer, nodding frantically in agreement.

“My needy slut,” he added as he bit on your neck and finally started pumping his finger, thumb rubbing circles on your clit and you shook with pleasure, your cunt aching and clenching around his digit.

John pulled his hand out long enough to add a second finger inside you, making you whimper at the way they stretched you. How was it possible that he was just fingering you and it felt this good, made you this desperate? You rolled your hips, meeting his hand, your ecstasy rising with each movement and you were so close when he stopped.

“Not yet, darling,” he said with a smirk as you whimpered.

He waited a couple of moments before starting all over again steadily bringing you to the edge before stopping once more, giving you a few seconds to calm down before doing it again and again until you were almost in tears, rooting desperately against his hand, a litany of cries and curses falling from your lips.

“John, please,” you begged in a whiny voice, clawing at his clothed shoulders and he chuckled. “Let me come.”

“You’ll cum when I say you can,” he declared, holding your chin in a firm grip as he sucked on your bottom lip in the dirtiest way possible before shooting you smirk. “You’re gonna be a good little slut and wait until I’m ready to make you cum. Are we clear?” You let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Say it.”

“Yes, John.” His hand moved lower, wrapping around your throat and you whimpered in need. Of course, he knew. He knew everything about you. Even things you didn’t even know about yourself.

“Try again, darling.”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, meeting his eyes and he grinned, catching your mouth in a harsh kiss that was almost bruising as he once again started to finger you, this time his strokes were fast and precise, hitting that sweet spot with very inward motion, making you keen against his mouth.

You were so close but fought against the wave of arousal, trying to suppress it, but it was hard when John was so efficient in his movements. When you were sure you couldn’t hold on anymore, he pulled his fingers away, replaced them with his cock and you almost screamed at the overwhelming pleasure of John filling you up, pushing so deep, your walls stretching to accommodate him and he grunted against your mouth.

“Fucking perfect, my darling.”

He bit your lip and started thrusting, his hands squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise, but you were so lost the sensations that you couldn’t care less. You laid back on the hood, letting John fuck you into oblivion, every single nerve end of your body felt connected to your cunt and you couldn’t form one single coherent thought.

Sex never felt this overpowering, but all your senses where reduced to the feel of him on top of you and inside of you, his hands around your thighs, lifting them up, changing the angle of your hips and making his thrusts even deeper. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your heels digging against his back as you met his movements.

One of his hands let go of your legs and moved between your bodies, his thumb roughing swirling your clit and your vision whited out as you came with a cry, gushing and squeezing around him. John thrust a few more times until his hips faltered and he let out a groan as he came too, spilling inside you, his eyes turning pitch back as he stared into you.

Deep down you knew it should scare you, but it didn’t. Instead, it made you reach for his face, cup his cheek gently as he closed his eyes and rested against your chest catching his breath.

“You don’t have to hide them from me,” you said with a soft caress and John tilted his head up so he could look at you, this time with human eyes. “I’m not afraid of them or you.”

“You should,” he sighed, pulling back and out of you slowly but you still winced at the throbbing between your legs. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was gonna make you ache. “I’m gonna damn your soul.”

“I don’t care,” you said reaching for him, but he stepped back, tucking himself back in his pants. “John, I…” you trailed off afraid of finishing that sentence but knowing that if he could read your thoughts, feel what you feel, he already knew.

You hopped off the hood of the car and reached for him again, this time he let you pull him closer, touch his neck and cheek before you pressed your lips gently against his in a soft, loving kiss.

John sighed against your mouth, his arms coming around your back as he held you close, all the roughness from before suddenly gone as he kissed you like his life depended on it. On you. It was full of want, but of affection too, the same you felt for him and you asked yourself when your feelings got so entwined with his. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you and you didn’t even care if that meant your soul would be damned to hell. That was where he was from right? You would gladly follow John there if that was what it took.

Maybe John heard those thoughts because he wrenched himself from you and staggered back, his eyes wide and panicked. He was afraid. If of your feelings or his own you didn’t know.

“Jo…” it was all you managed before he disappeared into thin air, leaving you alone with his car.

— 

John stumbled in the dark of his hotel room, mind still reeling from her feelings and his own. The way she touched and kissed him had made him once again get lost in her sweet taste. He thought he would be immune to it by now since he had felt it so much while they fucked, but it was different then. It was tainted by her sin.

When she kissed him afterward, so soft and gentle, with all of her sweetness, all of her virtue and affection, it intoxicated him, caused him to chase it with his tongue and his body and what was left of his blackened soul.

It made John realize how desperately he wanted her. Not just her soul anymore. Every inch of her body, her sharp mind and bright smiles and kind gazes and cute laughs… He hungered for them. For her.

John was startled by the intensity of his own feelings. Because there was no doubt they were his. She had taken him by surprise with her unspoken confession, but what scared him the most was that he felt the same.

That wasn’t even supposed to be possible. Love was a human emotion and all of that was supposed to be burned out of him in hell, along with every other aspect of his humanity. Even back when he was human John was never one to feel much. He had been a killer for hire and couldn’t afford to have emotions so it hadn’t been hard getting used to the emptiness of being a demon.

As a matter of fact, it was a welcome change after the years of pain and torture he endured in hell before he was offered a choice. Either suffer for the rest of eternity or go back to Earth serving under the High Table, the archdukes of hell, collecting and corrupting souls to increase hell’s ranks.

John chose the latter and hadn’t experienced emotions ever since. He could get echoes of feelings whenever he was bounded to a human by a deal, but to experience the actual thing again? That never happened before and John hadn’t been prepared for it. Maybe he should ask Winston.

However, how the hell John was going to explain to his boss how much he screwed this up? It was supposed to be a simple deal. He had done hundreds of those in the time he had been a demon. And in these modern days and ages, they were getting easier. People were all too willing to give up their souls for what they thought was their greatest desire. Besides, John could be very compelling when he wanted to.

It wasn’t often that he had to work a little harder to get a soul, corrupt it until it was ready to go to hell. That was why he jumped at the opportunity of trying to do it with her. John missed the challenge. But It didn’t turn out that easy, did it? It was almost as if she was as in tune with John’s own feelings and thoughts as he was to hers. That shouldn’t be possible, though. The bound didn’t work two ways as far as he knew.

The only thing John could think of was that there was something about her, something different and special. He had felt it since the beginning and thought it was just her virtue, but could it be something more? Something strong enough the make John feel human emotions again, not just tune in to them?

There was one other person that could answer his question. John reached for his phone, browsing through his contacts until he found the right one and fired a quick text. It took maybe ten minutes until the phone in his room rang and John answered with a short hello.

“I apologize for the hour, Mr. Wick but Mr. Marcus is waiting for you at the bar,” the concierge spoke with a hesitant tone and John just thank the man quickly, before heading out of the room to meet his friend.

The hotel bar was empty at that time of the night and it was easy to spot Marcus at one of the tables by the windows overlooking the town square. There were already two glasses of whiskey on the polished wooden table and as John approached the angel, Marcus turned his head John’s way, his eyes burning bright with heavenly fire.

Marcus greeted him with a nod, watching him over the brim of his tumbler. John nodded back, dropping on the seat in front of his old friend and swallowing his drink in one go before signaling the bartender for another.

“There’s something different about you,” Marcus commented, narrowing his eyes at John who snorted and cursed under his breath.

“It’s that obvious then?” John asked and Marcus nodded, setting his drink aside and leaning forward on his elbows waiting for John to speak. “I’m feeling again, Marcus.” The angel raised his eyebrows in surprise. “And I think… I think I’m falling in love with a human.”

John let out a shaky breath, something twisting painfully in his stomach at his confession. For the love of Lucifer, what the hell did she do to him?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last part! I loved the idea when I came to me and fell in love even more while writing it. Wanna thank everyone who stuck around for this ride! I hope you people enjoyed as much as I did and I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. Maybe I’ll return to this in the near future.

You stared at the empty spot that John had previously occupied, too confused to move before letting out a deep sigh and rubbing your face. Of course, you screwed this up. You always screw it up. It almost felt like a curse. Whenever you got close and started to fall for someone, they ran away from you, more often than not without a goodbye or explanation.

With another sigh, you got into John’s car, on the driver’s seat this time, relieved to see that he had left the keys in the ignition. You adjusted the seat and mirrors grimacing at the way the mess of fluids running down your leg made you stick uncomfortably to the seat. It would probably stain the leather, but you couldn’t give a single fuck. He left you stranded in the middle of nowhere. Getting a cum stain on his seat was a very small punishment for it.

As you drove back home, angry tears prickled on the corner of your eyes and you wiped them away, smearing your mascara. You had been such a fool for letting yourself be swept by a man who was a literal demon, whose only interest was to take you straight to hell and you gave in to him. Might as well had handened your soul to him on a silver platter. Shouldn’t you have a better sense of self-preservation?

You had been on this road before. You had fallen for the wrong man once. Gave him your whole heart and he smashed into pieces, left you broken and ruined, unable to really trust again. Or so you thought. Because here you were, giving yourself to the wrong person again getting involved in something that would only lead to pain.

You parked the car at the driveway of your parents’ house and headed inside, straight to your bedroom. You all but tore the dress off yourself and stepped into the burning hot shower to wash away every trace of your night with John, scrubbing away the smell of his cologne from your skin.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t wash away the bruises and love bites he left on your neck, hips, and thighs and as you stared at yourself in the mirror of your room you felt an emptiness in your chest. You already missed him.

You slept poorly, tossing and turning, your dreams haunted by John’s face and his smell and his touch and you longed for him so much you woke up in the early hours of the morning gasping his name, the emptiness almost crushing you.

You needed to see him and talk to him and feel him… You needed him. But you didn’t know where he went when he disappeared in thin air like that. You didn’t know anything about him. Nothing except he was a demon and could hear your thoughts and feel what you felt, but you didn’t know how close he needed to be for that.

You felt silly sitting on your bed, eyes squeezed shut in concentration as you shouted his name in your head.

‘ _JOHN! Can you hear me?_ _JOHN!’_

There was a shift in the air, a lingering smell of sulfur and when you opened your eyes, John was standing there, in sweatpants and a white shirt, hair messy and dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he slept as badly as you did.

“You don’t have to shout,” he said with a yawn. “I can hear you just fine.”

“Well how am I supposed to know how good reception is in hell?” you said, standing up to face him, arms crossed over your chest.

“Is there where you think I go?” He asked with a small amused snort and you shrugged, your cheeks heating up. “I’m staying at a hotel, darling. Getting in and out of hell isn’t exactly an easy trip.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly. “So, when I summoned you…”

“I was already in town that’s why I answered,” he explained, taking a seat on the edge of your bed and reaching for you. After a moment of hesitation, you let him pull you closer until you were standing between his legs and he rested his cheek against your belly.

“You live on Earth then?” you asked, combing your fingers through his hair. The emptiness was finally gone now that you were touching him. He nodded, his hands running up your thighs as he nuzzled your stomach. “And you have a regular job and everything?”

“Even demons have bills to pay,” he replied with a chuckle, looking up at you and for the first time, you noticed his eyes weren’t black, but a warm shade of brown. “I restore antique books.”

“So that was why you were at Callum’s,” you said, bending down to kiss him, sighing happily against his lips. You should be furious. He abandoned you yesterday but at the sight of him, all the anger bled out from you.

“I’m sorry, darling” John whispered against your mouth. “I shouldn’t have left like that. I was just…”

“Confused? Overwhelmed?” you offered, and John nodded, pulling you to sit on his lap. “Why?”

“I’m a demon, I’m not supposed to feel,” he said, tracing your face. “But you, my darling, are making me feel everything.”

“Love?” you asked, hesitantly and John nodded. “Me too.”

“I know,” he smiled, cradling your face and you scrunched up your nose as he kissed it. John chuckled.

“It’s not fair, you know? You know everything about me, and I don’t know anything about you. I don’t even know if your real name is John.”

“It isn’t.”

“What is it then?”

“I can’t tell you,” John replied with a sigh, caressing your cheek.

“Can’t or won’t?” you challenged.

“Can’t. Names have power in my world. Giving someone your name is giving them control over you.”

“Is that why you call me darling all the time?” you asked, earning a soft smile.

“Part of it, yes,” he said, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “But mostly is because I like you.”

“So, what can you tell me? About yourself?”

John took a deep breath before he started to tell you about his human life. He told you about how he killed so many people that it wasn’t really a surprise his soul went straight to hell when he died at age 49. He told you about the torture he endured before becoming a demon himself and being allowed to go back to his old home, New York. He told you about his job of collecting and corrupting souls, but that you already knew. John never lied to you about it.

“So, is there a point system or something?” you asked as a joke. “How many points did I get by having my brains fucked out by a demon?”

John stood up so suddenly you nearly fell out of his lap. It was only your quick reflexes that made you catch your footing as he moved away from you.

“Don’t kid about that,” he said, his voice turning hard. “It’s not funny.”

“John…” you started, reaching for him but he pulled away from you, eyes haunted.

“No. We need to end this deal before…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“Before what?” you asked, taking a step towards him again. “Before my soul is damned for all eternity? John, I told you, I don’t…”

“I care!” he shouted cutting you off. “I don’t want you to go through what I did. I can’t break the deal, but I can stop tainting you. Maybe that will be enough…” He shook his head again and his eyes were so full of pain it broke your heart. “I’ll be back tonight to take you to the wedding, our deal will be done, and you will never see me again.”

Before you could say a word of protest, he was gone again, and you wanted to scream. One of these days, you were gonna learn a way to keep him from leaving you like that.

—

As John fixed his tie for the night, he felt a lump on his throat. This was the last time he was going to see her, and it was breaking his heart but he knew it was for the best. If he stopped now he would be able to save her, keep her from having the same destiny he had. Unlike John, she didn’t deserve eternal damnation. Not if what Marcus told him was true. She was the last person in the world that deserve it.

Last night, when John poured his heart out to his friend, it only took him saying her name for Marcus to understand what was happening. The purity John felt on her was the remains of the angelic powers that allowed her birth. She was a miracle. A literal fucking miracle, which meant at the same rate that John tainted her soul, she redeemed his. That was why he was feeling emotions again and falling in love. He was turning back to human as he damned her soul to hell.

If it was anyone else John would jump at the chance of being human again, free of hell’s influence and with the opportunity of doing things differently, lead a normal life. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was her and he wouldn’t risk her soul. Who would have thought John one day would put someone else above himself? Definitely not him.

With one last look at the mirror, John wondered what happened to him. How could he have changed so much in just under two days? Here he was, wearing his familiar black suit, his hair gelled back and once upon a time the sight of him in this outfit would strike fear in the hearts of humans and demons alike. Tonight, all he could see when he looked at himself was a pale shadow of the imposing figure he used to be.

With a sigh, he searched for his car keys and remembered he left with her. Once again she was waiting for him at the door and stepped out as soon as he knocked. She threw the keys his way and John opened the passenger door for her. She got in without a word, but he could feel the tentative glances she kept sending him and the way her pretty lips would part as if she was about to say something to him but thought better of it, remaining silent.

The tense silence between them endured through the entire trip to the church and John was almost thankful for the fact that she was the maid of honor and had to sit in the front roll with the rest of the wedding entourage while he hung in the back.

The ceremony was shorter than he expected and soon enough they were on their way to the party, being greeted by the newly wedded couple. As John shook hands with the groom, he caught the way the bride whispered something to her, apparently catching the tension between them. Once again she lied, this time much more smoothly. He barely felt the taste of her sin. It made him worry for her soul. Was he too late?

Guilt gnawed his guts with an intensity he never felt before, not even when he was human, and John wished he had the power to speed time and end this party already. He wanted to be done with this deal before he ruined her completely. John headed for the bar, ordering himself a bourbon which he swallowed in one go, enjoying the burn on his tongue and throat. He pushed a hundred dollars bill to the bartender.

“I don’t wanna see this glass empty for the rest of the night,” he said and the man nodded, immediately refilling the glass while he pocketed the money.

John kept watching her from afar, they way she was talking and laughing with her friends, actually enjoying herself. Sometimes she would glance his way. Worry and pain would flash in her eyes and that was enough to break his heart all over again, make him move away, out of her sight.

He moved to one of the quieter corners of the party. Hoping some distance could dull some of the pain he felt for hurting her, even if it was the only way to protect her. John nursed his drink, counting the minutes for the party to be over while he mulled over the favor he had to ask her to end this deal once in for all.

He was so distracted with brooding, his senses a little hindered by the alcohol that it took John a while to pick up her discomfort. As soon as he did, he was on his feet, searching for her and wasn’t even surprised to find her once against cornered by Ryan.

“I really need to talk to you,” Ryan said, and she sighed.

“Ryan, this isn’t a good time,” she replied, trying to sidestep him but he grabbed her arm. The sight of him touching her had John seething and as he was about to intervene, he heard her voice in his head.

 _‘Stay out of it.’_ He froze in place. John didn’t even know she had noticed his approach.

“Fine! Talk.” She pulled her arm from Ryan’s grip, crossing them over her chest and glaring daggers at him.

Ryan stayed quiet as if he was figuring out what he wanted to say. John took a peek at his confused thoughts, realizing what the other man was about to do only seconds before the words were out of Ryan’s mouth.

“I still love you.” Her eyes went wide in shock at his words. “I never wanted to leave you but your father… he made me. I regretted the second I stepped in that bus.”

“My dad made you leave?” she asked, and John could feel her confusion. “How?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ryan shook his head, trying to wave the question away and John couldn’t help but snort, drawing their attention to his presence.

“That’s not true, is it, Ryan?” John said stepping closer until he was standing next to her. “It does matter.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ryan hissed, glaring at John.

“Your father offered him a check,” John declared, shifting his attention to her before Ryan could say anything else. “And he took it.”

He watched as she swallowed hard, her eyes glistening as she glanced back at Ryan. Her hurt was almost crushing, and John had to grab onto the wall to not succumb to it.

“Is this true?” she asked, and Ryan gaped wordlessly. “It is, isn’t it? John doesn’t lie.”

“I…” he started his expression angsty. “I regret taking that money every single day. I swear. If I could turn back time…” She shook her head and snorted, tears streaking down her face. 

“You know, I never thought you could hurt me anymore than you had done that night,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I was wrong.”

Turning on her heels, she walked away. Ryan made a motion to follow but John stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“I think you’ve done enough,” John said with a dangerous glare. “You should go back to your date and leave her alone.”

“Or what?” Ryan challenged emboldened by whiskey and John almost felt tempted in letting him take the first blow just so he would have an excuse to break this man.

“Or you’ll regret it,” John replied, his eyes turning fully black.

The terror in Ryan’s face as he stumbled back and away was quite satisfying and John chuckled as the man ran away. His amusement faded at the overwhelming feeling of pain making him choke up and his eyes burn. John didn’t even know he could still cry. He followed the path she had taken, finding her sitting outside, face in her hands.

“I’m a good person,” she declared startling John as she turned to look at him. “I am, right? I mean I’m no saint, but I follow the law and protect citizens. I recycle and I help old people cross the street… I’m a good person.”

“Darling…” he sighed, taking her hand in his. “You’re way more than just good. You have one of the purest souls I have ever encountered.”

“So why does it feel like I’m being punished all the time?” she asked with a sniffle. “I thought I was over Ryan and here he is, breaking my heart all over again and you… You can’t even bear look at me.”

“You know how I feel about you,” John said with a shaky breath and she snorted.

“Do I?” she stood up, hugging herself. “You never told me.”

John stood as well, bringing her into his embrace and catching her lips for a kiss.

“I love you, my darling,” he whispered against her mouth, her hot tears wetting his cheeks. John wasn’t sure if she was crying because she was still hurt and raw or because the wedding was almost over and every second that passed brought them closer to completing their bargain.

John cradled her face in his hands, looking into her eyes, he needed to ask his favor now. There was only one thing he wanted but it was the only thing he couldn’t have. Not if he wanted to protect her.

“Please forgive me,” he asked instead, his voice breaking slightly.

“There’s nothing to forgive, John,” she said with a confused frown.

“Not yet,” John sighed, tracing her face, committing it to memory.

“That’s the favor, isn’t it?” she asked, eyes welling up again and John nodded. “I forgive you, John.”

“Thank you,” he said with a sigh. There was just one thing left to do now.

John brushed away the rest of her tears from her cheeks before he caught her lips in a kiss. It was slow and full of longing, but when John finally pulled away from her, he could no longer hear or feel her. The deal was finished.

“Goodbye, darling,” he whispered against her lips before fading into the night, leaving her for the last time.

—

You stood in the cemetery in front of the tombstone, jewelry box in hand as you contemplated if you were really going through with this. It had been six months since Claire’s wedding. Six months since your entire life had been turned upside down. Not only you had run into the man you thought had been the love of your life after years without seeing him, but he also confessed that he still loved you and why he had left.

When you got back to your parents’ house that night the fight had been epic. How dare your father mess with your life like that? Pay your boyfriend to abandon you, break your heart.

“I don’t regret it,” he said, his tone never wavering. “A broken heart is easier to mend than a ruined life. You’re my only daughter. I wasn’t gonna let that scumbag end your future. Hate me all you want but if he really loved you, he wouldn’t have taken a cent. No matter how much I offered.”

You had no answer to that, so you just stumped your way back to your room, slamming the door shut like a teenager throwing a temper tantrum. Deep down you knew he was right. If Ryan had stayed, would you have gone to college? Police academy? Would you have met John?

Your heart arched as your thoughts traveled back to the demon. You understood why he did what he did. He was trying to protect you, save you from hell, even if his job was to do the exact opposite. However, you hated that he took the choice away from you. You would have gladly damned your soul to hell if you got to keep him, but that wasn’t an option. Not anymore apparently.

You went back to your life, trying to put the entire thing behind you. You eventually forgave your dad and looked up Ryan’s girlfriend, telling her everything that had happened at the wedding. Was it vindictive and petty of you? Yes. Did you regret it? Absolutely not. Especially when she showed you the video of her burning every single piece of clothes Ryan owned when she dumped him. It was entertaining as hell and you made an amazing new friend. All in all, your father was right, and you dodged a bullet getting rid of Ryan. Warning Maggie was just your way of paying it forward.

As the weeks went by, you threw yourself into work, expecting the gaping hole in your heart to diminish, but it didn’t. You missed John and nothing could make that better. Maybe that was what made you a little more daring, a little more reckless in your job.

You started to always be the first through the door of any dangerous situation, the first to draw your weapon and confront perps. You kept toeing the line and lost count of how many times you got yelled by your Captain or how many close calls you got. It was in one of these calls that you found yourself face to face with a man called Charon.

You were stepping out of the 99th precinct after spending a week chasing this guy who killed his wife. You managed to nail him, but it was a close call and you were exhausted and ready to sleep for a whole day. Instead, you were confronted with Charon waiting outside a black sedan as he called your name and opened the passenger door for you.

“My employee would like to have a word with you about a mutual acquaintance,” Charon said after introducing himself.

“What mutual acquaintance?” You asked with an arched eyebrow.

“You might know him as John Wick.”

You were inside the car as fast as your legs could carry you and Charon drove to a fancy hotel called the Continental, leading the way to the rooftop overlooking the New York skyline where a man with greying hair and in an elegant cravat sipped tea.

“So you’re the reason my most efficient demon has been in suffering for weeks.” His voice was deep and gravelly; his eyes dark and piercing as he turned your way, giving you a quick once-over. “Are you aware of what you’ve done to Jonathan?”

“We made a deal, but that’s…

“Over?” Winston cut you off with a snort. “The deal might be, but the repercussions… you started him in the path of redemption. Now every soul he takes causes him great pain. He’s useless to High Table like that. As a soul collector at least.”

His words sparked hope in your chest. if John was useless to hell, maybe…

“Maybe you get to keep him?” Winston voiced your thoughts, his lips drawing into a smirk. “You do love him, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You didn’t flinch or hesitate at the word. You weren’t afraid of it anymore.

Winston just nodded, glancing to the side when Charon appeared, handing him a small black book and a rolled-up parchment, yellowed and frail.

“How about we strike a deal, my dear?” Winston started, moving closer to you. “We recently had a breach in our gates and a few, shall we say, strays got loose. Hell isn’t chaos, you know? We have a strict balance to keep.”

“Ok and?” you asked, arching your eyebrow at him. You think you knew where this was going, but you wanted to make sure.

“We could use some help in herding these strays back to where they belong,” Winston continued. “Help from someone with special abilities. With enough power to find and bind them.”

“You think I have that?” you asked, and Winston snorted.

“If you could summon John, you can definitely find these lost souls and lower demons,” he said with a flick of his hand. “Just by looking at you I can see the raw potential. You just need a proper master to teach you.”

“Say I accept this, what do I get?” you asked, watching as Winston smirked.

“Exactly what you want,” he said showing her the parchment. “John’s contract.”

“He’ll be free?” you asked, your heart hammering in your chest.

“As free as he can be as a demon.”

“I accept,” you declared, stepping up to Winston but he stopped you by raising his hand.

“A simple handshake will surface with me, dear,” he said, offering his hand. When your palm touched his, a sharp burning pain in your wrist made you hiss. There was now a black mark etched on your skin. “Just insurance. If you do not follow my terms, John’s soul remains with me and I’ll have yours.”

“I should’ve read the fine print, huh?” you said with a derisive snort and Winston smirked, handing you the book and a business card.

“Learn what you need first, then you get what you want.”

With one last nod, you walked away from Winston and started your deep dive into the supernatural world. learning everything you could find on heaven and hell; demons and angels; lost souls and anything else you could find under the guidance of a witch doctor by the name of Bowery King.

Now here you stood, six months later with brand-new skills and exactly what you needed to get what you wanted. You just hoped you got the right grave otherwise this was going to be awkward.

With a deep breath, you set the box on the ground. Aash and bone and silver already inside. Only one thing missing. You took out the small vial of blood you had collected earlier that day. One of the things the King taught you was that just because magic was an ancient force didn’t mean it needed to be archaic. Blood drawn with a syringe worked just as well as drawn from a cut but hurt way less and didn’t leave you vulnerable to infection.

You dripped the blood in the box and whispered the same words you had said that night at the crossroad. This time you didn’t stumble over your Latin and you finished with a name:

“Jardani Jovanovic.” For a while, nothing happened and then a shudder ran through you when you heard his voice.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” his tone was harsh and angry, and you had to smile. Damn, you had missed him.

“Well hello to you too, John,” you said turning to face him. “Or do you prefer Jardani?” He almost stumbled back in shock.

“Where did you hear that name?” he asked, voice shaking, and you stepped closer to him.

“Well, it wasn’t easy to find out. All I had to start was that you were 49 and died in New York. Do you know how much I had to dig to find out your human identity? I’m on a first-name basis with every single employee at the Public Library. But I found you, John.”

“Good for you,” he growled. “You still shouldn’t have done this, summoned me or any other demon for that matter. You have no idea what you’re doing.” He turned around to leave but froze at your next words.

“I met Winston.”

“What?” John looked back at you with wide eyes.

“Winston. That’s your boss, right?” you said, stepping towards him again and before you could even think about stopping him, John grabbed your right hand, turning your wrist so he could see the black marker on your skin.

“Darling, what have you done? After everything I did to keep your soul safe…”

“I never asked you to do that,” you pointed out, anger coloring your tone. “At least Winston gave me a choice. You just made it for me!”

“I did what I had to do!” He hissed, eyes flashing with anger as he let go of you. “Whatever it is you think you’re doing; I want no part on it. I will not help you damn your soul to hell.”

You saw his eyes turning the familiar black they usually did when he was using his powers to vanish but this time nothing happened. John looked at you in confusion and you smirked, nodding at his feet and he glanced down at the devil’s trap you had drawn before you summoned him.

“Have a little faith, Jonathan. I do know what I’m doing now. You don’t have to worry about my soul. As a matter of fact, I’m here to save yours.”

“What?” John looked at you with a frown and you smiled.

“I can get your contract,” you explained, taking out the black book from your jacket pocket. “I just have to wrangle up a few hundred escapees from hell and I could use some help. So how about a deal?”

“I help you and you give me my contract?” John asked, his anger long gone, leaving only hope and you nodded with a smile. “And then what? We drive out into the sunset together? I know Winston, darling. And I know the High Table. It’s not gonna be that easy.”

“Probably not.” You shrugged. “But it’s a shot at least. More than we had before. John, I’m doing this with or without you. If you don’t want this, just say the word. I’ll break the trap and…”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before John was smashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. You grinned against his mouth, arms going around his neck and soon enough you felt it running through you, the thrum of power as the deal was sealed.

 _‘Can you hear me?’_ You thought just to make sure, and John pulled back grinning.

“Yes,” he said bringing your hand to his lips. “And I can feel you.”

“Yeah? And how am I feeling?” you asked, combing your fingers through his hair and resting your forehead against his, sighing.

“Happy.”


End file.
